Went out for an early surf this morning. It was absolutely fantastic. The sandbanks were sending off waves that were over head, held up by the glassy conditions on offer. In the limited amount of time I had before needing to race to the cold shower and change into shirt and tie in the carpark, I got a few beautiful waves. Better still, I witnessed Frankie and Andy ride some beauties as well. Even better still, I witnessed waves breaking alone, without a surfer able to latch on, just mechanically barrelling and spitting down the line. Funny how that gives you so much joy. Perhaps it's the ability to imagine the possibilities, watching a great wave break you think of where you may be positioned. Perhaps when watching, you have time to reflect on where you are, what you are experiencing, the possibilities. You embrace the being there.
I quickly got dressed and got to work. Within 40 minutes I was on the recieving end of 4 complaints. I still had some sand on my feet, between my toes, under my shoes and socks, like a silent badge fighting against the crap that can take up a working day. Wiggling my toes, I still remember the empty wave.
Being there.
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